Wild, Wild Wasteland
by DeathMcGunz
Summary: The story of a young boy's journey in the Midwestern Wasteland.
1. Prologue: Note recovered by Elder Lyons

_Letter found on the body of a man in a hotel in southern D.C. Cause of death is unknown. Along with the letter there was a key, a gun, and a picture of a girl. The key unlocked a safe and in the safe there was a book, and another note entitled 'Epilogue'. _

_-Sarah Lyons, November 11__th__, 2325_

Prologue

"Sometime in October, in the year 2281, a man was shot twice in the head. On October 19th that man rose from the dead."

I heard a man tell the story once. I can't remember any of it except for those first two lines. They stuck with me through the roughest time of my life. Hell, I could probably say that they were more loyal than anyone I'd ever met, even Mama. She was the reason I had 'the roughest time of my life' anyways. Because she left me.

Her name was Jenny. She was tall, taller than the men that were around anyways, and her red hair was always in a ponytail (when I asked her why, she said 'cause of the knots'). I always thought 'the knots' were some kind of gang or something cause Mama always seemed to be trying to protect me from one gang or another. But it wasn't until Felicity that I learned that knots were just knots, like in a rope.

She was brushing her hair, Felicity was, after she had finished teaching me how to be a man (or at least that's what she called it, but being a man is a lot tougher and less pleasurable than that). Anyways, she was brushing when all of a sudden she let out a yelp and said "Ow! Stupid knots."

I had given her an odd look, one which I'm glad she didn't see, and noticed that her hair was tangled. I smiled at my own childish naivety and even let out a little giggle. Felicity looked at me and smiled, and for some reason that made my stomach sink. She was beautiful (even today no one has compared in the natural beauty department) way too beautiful to be doing the kind of work Mama would have called "the Devil's work. I felt sorry for the situation she was probably forced in to.

That was the day I became a man in more than just Felicity's way, and a day that laid a path in front of me, one that I'm still walking today. I still don't know where it goes, but I know it'll be somewhere that will make Mama proud. I'll talk about that day another time. It's not something I tell many people, so you better count yourself damn lucky when I decide to spin that yarn. And you best take notes, because I'll never mention it again and who knows when there will be a pop quiz.

For now, I wanna talk about Mama some more. She was a woman, not some child like I am, but she never looked like it. In my eyes she was never beautiful, but to other men of her age she was the catch to have and no one could ever have her. She always told them that I was her man. That made me smile and when I smiled she smiled.

She was…complicated. As this story gets told I don't want you judging her. As you will soon see, that's exactly what I did, so just sit lay off of it until you know the entire story. I feel that I can't quite tell you everything yet, cause if I did then there wouldn't be no surprises later on. I want y'all to be shocked just as I was and I want you to feel just as I did (or at least something close).

What good's a story if you don't feel for the characters?

It's no good, that's the answer. One thing you'll hopefully learn from this tale that questions aren't always meant to be answered. Though that information didn't help me so I can't imagine it'll help anyone else. It's just good to keep it in your mind I guess.

It's good to keep a lot of things in your mind.

Mama's always on my mind. (Jenny I mean. I try to call her Jenny now. A man isn't supposed to call the woman who raised him by Mama.) She's always helping me decide what to do, where to go and who to trust. And she's always there, even after she left me and I thought that I'd never see or hear her again. She's always there.

Jenny told me that she grew up in Lincoln's town, her mother and father were both good people, minding the law and all that. But Lincoln's town is a myth now. Its location is unknown and its existence was never recorded in any of the old pre-war books. I believe Mama though. She would never lie to me. Even when it's obvious that she did, it always turns out that she didn't.

She told me that she was kidnapped from Lincoln's town, her parents killed and a lot of town's folk taken a slaves as well. She said she wasn't no slave though. She said that she escaped and exacted revenge before moving on. She tried to find Lincoln's town again, to bury her mama and papa properly, but she never could. It avoided her.

Well after that, Mama ran into a small gang of raiders. She straightened them out and they took her in as their leader. They called her Jenny, but she says that she was their Mama just as well. From there it's all history, or at least that's what she would tell me. She branched out, got connected with everyone worth getting connected to, and led any man willing to take her as a leader. She was powerful, but not scary. She was a mother.

"That's where you come in," she'd always say, bending down and rubbing my head. She found me in a basket, floating down a river. "Just like little, baby Moses!" She always laughed after she said that, like it was a miracle. I suppose it was, but I can't remember it.

I changed her, she said. She stopped getting connected and leading men, and focused on me. She could never have kids and she relished her every moment with me. There isn't a memory I have from back then that she isn't in. She loved me and reminded me every moment she got. Her lips out pull into a smile as she said it. Then she'd lay a kiss on my forehead. I always gave her one back and that made her cry.

"It's cause I'm happy, Sugar." She'd say as she wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me till I coughed. No one has ever given me a hug quite a refreshing as Mama's. She had a gift for hugs I guess, and she hugged me every day. She did everything every day. She never wanted me to forget her love.

Then she was gone…

I found her in her bed room, there was a gun in her hand and two identical holes on opposite sides of her head. Blood was still flowing when I stepped in and vomited on the floor. I…It…

I can't speak of it. Maybe it will be in the story, for as you well know, this is just a prologue. A little note to all those reading my tale. I hope y'all will like it. It starts of in a small town in Iowa, one by the name of Downing. It's where I grew up and it's where Mama died and it's where a lot of things happened.

Hopefully you like everything you read and if you don't then I at least hope you found it entertaining. When I think about all the times (all the ones I allow myself to remember) I find myself entertained. I think it's quite thrilling. There's a lot of danger. There's a lot of twists and turns. And it all is because of Mama.

Sometimes I hate her.

But that's love, ain't it? Love and hate? Give and take? Life and death? Live or die? That last question is the only one that can actually be answered, but like I said; questions aren't always meant to be answered. Remember that, because I didn't. A lot of trouble came from no remembering that. But anyways…

Follow me as I learn.

Follow me as I leave.

Follow me as I try to do the right thing. Try. It's such an odd word. Because it means you never have to succeed.


	2. Chapter 1: The house of doubt

_I can't help but read this with an odd fascination. Either Ewan wrote about himself, attaching his note to it at the beginning, or someone else wrote it entirely. So far there doesn't seem to be any real interest for the brother of steel, but I will take it, if only for something to do._

_ -Sarah Lyons, November 11__th__, 2325_

**Chapter One**

"Sometime in October, in the year 2281, a man was shot twice in the head. On October 19th that man rose from the dead." Joseph Richards spoke loud, bellowing through his loose lips about the courier he had heard about. Richards was a traveler and a collector. He traveled most of the western coast before hitching on a caravan and arriving here in Iowa and he collected stories.

None of them had him in them; they were all tales from others he had met in the wastelands. He liked to talk about the fresh water at the Hoover Dam, and the forest that had sprouted up in Washington. There was a tribe of women in Colorado, which wasn't that interesting on it's own but the way Joe told it, there was a 'catcher'; they were cannibals.

Still, he'd say, there are plenty of groups like that. There was a batch of Cannibals in what remained of Las Vegas and another in Seattle. Somewhere in Utah there was a vampire (really it was just someone who drank blood) and the entire state of Wyoming was roving with zombies. He wasn't able to say if they were just radiated people or people who have risen from the grave, but 'they stumbled around and looked dead' he said. He ever swears that he heard one ask for his brain.

But his crown jewel, the story he only told people he liked (and he 'doesn't like just anyone, sonny-jim') was the story of the courier. He didn't know all of it, but he did know the beginning and some of the middle. Telling it, he'd fill in the gaps with his guesses and his drabble. And he always ended it right before the second battle for Hoover Dam.

"I don't really know how it ended up, but I do know that Caesar's Legion went running and the courier was still alive." Richard's would smile then, leaning closer to the person, or persons, he was speaking to. "And he never killed a soul."

That's when people would say that it was impossible and that Ol' Joe was just pulling their leg. But the boy, that darned boy, he believed with all of his heart. His eyes dazzled and his heart found itself attached to the notion. Never killed a soul. Now that was impressive, and Richard's would agree.

"Whaddya think of that sonny-jim?" He asked the boy, who had his mouth hanging open.

"That's…that's amazing." It was merely a whisper but Joe heard him and let out a crackling laugh.

"Boy-eee. You sure did pin the tail on the rad scorpion." Another explosion of sickening laughter. "You think that's amazin', let me tell you about the time…"

Joe continued talking but the boy stopped listening. His eyes were filled with stars and his heart felt clear for the first time that week. Death had been filling his every moment, seeping into his thoughts, his dreams, his conversations and since the incident was a few days behind him now, his memories as well.

"What's on your mind, short stack?" Joe asked, stopping his story. The boy hadn't realized that his face had went from amazed to depressed, and it didn't take a genius to realize that something terrible was on his mind. "What's yo name, sonny-jim?"

"Ewan."

"Well, Evan, tell ol' Joe what's eaten at yo brain."

The boy told him. He told of Jenny, his mama, and of what he saw three days ago. He spoke slowly, frigidly. It hurt to remember what he saw and when he tried, his mind blocked out certain parts; parts that Joe imagined were best left forgotten. 'But try anyways,' Joe edged, and the boy listened. He was just a boy after all, and Mama always told Ewan that boys listen to their elders.

"She had a hole in her head and there was blood on her face, and clothes," the boy stopped, on the verge of crying. "And the floor. Garsh, it was everywhere…It was…"

"That's ok, sonny-jim." Joe gave Ewan a slap on the back. "People die, it's a fact-o-life. You, me, and even your ol' mama. We all go to the same place."

"Where's that?"

"The big wasteland in the sky! That's where, Sonny-Jim!" Joe let out another cackle of laughter. "We all go there when we die. But o'course it's much cleaner up der. Ain't no rads or nuthin'. Yo mama…" Joseph paused and put his hand on Ewan's shoulder. "Your mama is in a better place."

"Really?" The kid asked, fresh tears squeezing from his eyes.

"Of course! Yo mama's prolly enjoyin' herself a nice glass o'wiskey right now."

"Wha's whiskey?"

"Oh, Sonny. You'll know when you're older." Joe let out a little sight of laughter. "When you's a man, you'll be enjoyin' that whiskey like all the rest of us." Some more laughter followed. Joseph was like one of those miners from those old cartoons. You know the kind with the ridiculous scraggy beards, the jeans suspenders that cover up the sweat stained t-shirt. He was an exact match.

"What'd you say you're mama's name was again?" Joe licked his lips, probing his mind for something that seemed to be wanting out.

"J…J…Jenny." The boy was wiping up his tears, still stuttering every so often.

"Hmm…" Joe thought long and hard. There was a story he had heard and it seemed relevant. "I heard of a Jenny 'fore. It was…It was back in good ol' Vegas. She was a nasty ass girl doh (pardon my language). Nuthin' like what you's described. This Jenny, she was a tall woman, taller an' anyone I ever saw. She had hair like a fire now, you hear that Sonny? Like a fire!

"She was a fierce person. Ruthless too! I heard dat she once kilt a man jus for lookin' at her funny. You believe dat?" Ewan heard the question but didn't answer. His mind felt a little confused. It might have had something to do with the Jenny that Joseph described. While the killing didn't sound familiar, the hair and the height did. Hell, it was spot on. But it couldn't be. That would be impossible.

"O'course ya do. You's jus a boy. You believe anything your ol' Joseph tells you, don'tcha?" Again, Ewan didn't answer and Joseph took that as a yes. The conversation pretty much ended there. Joseph got up and started a conversation with a group of the elders in town, leaving Ewan to his mind's toils. Quickly he realized that all he was doing was questioning himself.

Who was Jenny? Was she nice like he knew? Or was she mean like that creepy old guy had said? Why was he even questioning her? She was his mama. She loved him and he loved her. But she left him…she left him alone. What was it that mama had said all those years ago? Death changes everything…

Ewan, only being nine at the time, wasn't quite sure what she had meant back then, but he did now. Nothing felt ok anymore. There was a whirlwind of words and voices in his head and they were all speaking in foreign languages. Nothing made any sense in his brain. Mama was good, but then again, there was this nagging, stabbing feeling in his gut that doubted that.

For his entire life, Jenny had been his school, his teacher, his leader. Who was to say that she had been right the entire time? That old slum Joseph seemed to know the wasteland better than anyone did and he…he knew stories. He knew things that Ewan wanted to know, that Ewan wanted to see. Hell, he didn't know what to think at all. He just missed her. He just wished she were here to tell him it was all a lie…but what if that was all a lie?

He felt dumb, for questioning himself, but he also assumed that everyone felt that way. He also assumed a lot of things, a lot of things he'd rather know than just guess about.

'Forget it,' he thought to himself. 'Mama would never lie to me. She loved me.'

He stood up from his seat in the middle of town and began to walk back to the house that he had lived in for ten years. The forefront of his mind was cleared for the rest of the day, but at night, when the shadows stopped bending to the sun, his head, heart and nightmares were filled with doubt.

And when he woke up, he had a feeling in his gut. A feeling that told him he wouldn't rest until he knew the truth, the entire truth, about his life and Jenny, his mama.


	3. Chapter 2: Scars

_The girl described here strikes a bell in my head. I know her. My father said that there was a woman named Felicity that had found a piece of technology when she was a child and was willing to trade for a place to stay. Sadly, he said that they lost contact with her. I think I might pick up on her trail, see if I can find her to ask her about this. But not right now, I've been busy._

_-Sarah Lyons, November 17__th__, 2325_

**Chapter Two**

"Do you really want me to tell you the truth, Sonny?" Joseph was setting in a stool at the only bar in town. His gaze was distracted by a broad a couple stools down, but he was talking to a little boy who sat right next to him. The boy looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, his hair in disarray, but he also looked serious.

"Yes," Ewan said, watching as Joe paid him no attention. "I want the truth."

Joe continued to look at the woman as she bent over in front of him to pick up a 'tip' that fell on the ground. He let out a whoop and a holler as he slapped his knee and dug into his pockets for any loose caps. She stood back up slowly, making sure to give the old-timer everything she could offer for free. He fumbled the caps into her dress and put a big smile on his face, revealing the disgusting tangle of missing teeth and black gunk.

"Excuse me, miss," Ewan said. The woman turned to look at him and smiled (the smile reminded him of Jenny's.

"What do you need, little cutie?" On any other day Ewan would have smiled at the childish compliment, but on that day, he didn't even blink. Then, speaking in a calming, peppy voice, he said:

"I really hate to ask this, but could you get the hell away?" Her face dropped from motherly to saddened then to rage as she stormed off behind the bar. Ewan then turned back to Joseph and stared into his eyes.

"Now Sonny! Why the heck diddja do dat?"

"Because you're going to listen to me now. I need to know the truth and you're the only place I can start."

"Sonny, you're only what? Twelve?..."

"Fifteen."

"Twelve, whatever. You're not a man yet, and not even men can handle the truth all da time." Joe was waving for the bartender, who just ignored him. "I know a lot of stuff 'bout de wasteland, Sonny. And I only know one Jenny, but dat doesn' mean that it's yo Mama."

That might have affected Ewan if he hadn't been thinking about it all night. His mind was set at that point. He wanted to either prove that he knew Jenny and that she never lied to him, or that everything was a lie. Either way it was an adventure, one that he didn't quite mind dying for. He was alone anyways. His Mama left him, he didn't have anyone else.

"I just need to know where to start."  
"You plannin' on headin' into the wasteland, boy-o?" Joe sounded completely astounded. "I can't be supportin' such a stupid ass idea. You bes' jus' be gettin' outtah here. I can tell you a story later if you want, but right now I just want to drink and try to forget that this conversation even happened." The bar around them fluctuated in sound, with people joining groups or exiting a group. There were small pockets of people tucked into different tables, women were serving drinks, men were taking women into the back and Ewan wasn't going to give up.

"What will make you tell me?"

"What, boy?" Joe asked, tilting his head to hear better. A group of men took up seats next to them on the bar. Their conversation was both annoying and pointless.

"I said, what will make you tell me?" Joe paused for a minute, giving Ewan a look over.

"You really want to know about this Jenny girl?" Ewan didn't answer and Joe took that as a yes. "Well, come back when you're a man. Then I can tell ya and not feel guilty when you get killed chasing after some ghost tale."

"When will I be a man?"

"Are you fuckin' serious, kid?" Again, Ewan didn't answer. Joe repositioned himself in his chair and stared at the boy before continuing. "When you grow hair on your chest, ya know? Kill a man, lay with a woman, have some whiskey! What men do! You know, right? You'll know when you're a man."

Ewan stood up at that point. Joe gave him a look before turning back to the bar, trying to flag down a drink. The bartender grabbed a whiskey from the counter and slid it down to the old-timer, who uncorked it and took a big, healthy swig. His faced squished up at the pungent taste of it and Ewan walked away.

His mind was swimming again, but it was just because he had to make a decision. Apparently, according to Joe, to become a man he had to lay with a woman, have a drink of that stuff that obviously tasted terrible and he had to kill a man. He didn't feel like killing, he knew that much, but if he needed to, he thought he might. The first two seemed simple enough, though he didn't really know how to go about doing either.

The bar continued to swarm. He had never seen it so busy in his life, though, to be honest, he'd only ever been in it one other time to get something for his Mama. But still, the sound from it usually carried throughout the town, reaching his ears in the middle of the night while he was trying to sleep and it never sounded so rowdy. There were people from the parts of town the he never ventured to and people from out of town. He saw mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, entire families at booths, women in skimpy dresses, men in nice suits, men in rags and exactly one girl.

No, his eyes weren't tricking him. It was a girl, not a woman, a girl. She was older than Ewan, but still obviously younger than any of the other whores and mothers scattered around the tavern. And she made Ewan's heart change tempos. It went from anxious to excited, in a way he hadn't felt since he started growing hair on the rest of his body. His Mama had explained it as a part of growing up, but it still frightened him when his voice started to crack. Mama only laughed, telling him it was changing, that he was going to be older when it was done.

He stared at the girl, remembering seeing her once before at the market a couple months ago. She looked a lot different with a dress and make-up, but he was positive that she had been the same girl (the one trying to buy the bread from the market, only to find that it had fungus growing on it). She looked beautiful, at the market and at the bar, and Ewan wanted her. That was the feeling he had, it wasn't some 'funny' feeling, he just wanted her.

But that felt odd to him. He wanted her, but it was in a way that his mind didn't quite understand. It felt powerful, intimidating…instinctive, as if it wasn't something he could think about, only something that he could do. So he let it lead him. It walked him through the crowd, the conversations around Joe being bogged down with others. He twisted past a few women standing in a group, passing a glass bottle around, and slipped out of the mass that stayed near the bar, putting him three yards away from the girl.

Her dress was a light green, the straps hanging off of her shoulders, revealing freckle spotted skin that was a light as the sky. Brown, leather gloves covered her hands and went up a couple inches of her hairless arms. She was laughing, flipping her curly, dark brown hair from her face onto her bare shoulder. Ewan smiled as he watched her, his mind just encompassed by her figure.

"Well can I get you men anything?" Her voice had a slight southern accent, which matched the western-style dress. The men each gave their own response, ranging from "no, thanks little lady" to "How much for a night?" She gave her rate and they all let out a groan. "Too rich for my blood," one of them said. They all gave a little laugh and she gave them all one more big smile before walking off.

Ewan smiled too.

She wasn't too rich for his blood.

# # #

"Felicity," she said. "My name's Felicity." She smiled from under the sheets, sweat hanging on her brow. Ewan didn't say anything, he only stared up at the ceiling. For the first time since his first talk with Joe, he felt calm as did his mind. He felt in peace. Exhausted, but at peace. His chest rose and fell in the same manner Felicity's did. She was on her side, facing Ewan, her hand tracing a pattern on his chest. Ewan didn't mind, it felt nice.

"And I turned eighteen yesterday," she said, finishing the question. Ewan swallowed and let out a deep breath, his heart rate finally dropping below the danger point.

"What are you?" Ewan asked. The question came out a bit harsh, but he didn't mean it in any such way. And when she asked 'what do you mean', he apologized and asked what her job was.

"I'm a hooker," she laughed. "That's why you paid to come up here with me."

"Oh," Ewan said. There was a long pause of silence before he sat up and looked at Felicity, whose body was amazing even under a blanket. "You mean you do this with people who pay you?"

"Yeah, I will," She said, propping herself up on her elbow. "You were my first customer." Ewan's eyebrow raised and she could see he was either confused, or still had questions. "If you want to ask anymore then you gotta answer a few of mine first." Ewan shook his head 'yes' and she started asking. "Well first, what's your name and how old are you?"

"Ewan, and I'm fifteen."

"Wow, really?" Ewan shook his head. "Well you seem very mature for your age, and quite handsome I might add. You were good. I can say I won't forget you and it wouldn't be a lie."

"I won't forget you either." Another period of silence, this one shorter than the last.

"So this was your first time," Felicity asked. Then, seeing Ewan's face, she added more to it. "With a woman, like, in bed?"

"Yeah, you're the only woman I've laid with." Felicity let out her sexy chuckle.

"Well, where I came from they called it sex, but 'laid' is fine too. So you're fifteen, why'd you decide to do this?"

"You're eighteen, why'd you decide to do it?" Ewan turned his body to face Felicity, who's face grew pained. Ewan knew the look, it was the look that death had when it seeped into one's memories.

"I didn't decide…"

"Who died?" Ewan asked, not entirely aware that the question could be construed as inappropriate. Felicity looked up at him, her eyes big and glowing in the moonlight that soaked in through the windows. "I'll tell you my story, if you tell me yours." So he did, and so did she.


	4. Note: From Felicity to anyone

_Before continuing in the book I decided to track down Felicity. After about a week of searching I found her residence. She was living in D.C, in some hut on the outskirts, but when I got there I found that she had abandoned it some time ago, leaving all of her property. I spent hours sifting through it all, most of it being garbage, but then I found the safe. It was small, thick and resilient. _

_ I dispensed shells on it and even tried a live grenade, none of it worked. So I had to hire the assistance of an antique-efficianato, or a thief, whatever you want to call it. He cracked it and I paid him. Inside was a picture (I take it that it was her father or someone close to her) and a burnt letter. _

_ The letter was several pages long but only the first page still existed and even the bottom of it was burnt. I transcribed it below for your reading. I'll probably stop hunting for her for now, unless I catch a lucky lead. Finding her isn't a top priority and this was only supposed to be a hobby for me to do when I wasn't busy. _

_ But you know what they say? A good book is hard to put down._

_ -Sarah Lyons, November 25__th__, 2325_

To anyone willing to read,

The boy, Ewan, told me about his life so I told him about mine. I told him about my mother and father, and how they were good people. They worked for the Brotherhood of Steel in Chicago and fought along a lot of good soldiers in the battle for Sears Tower, pushing the Enclave into Canada. They rose in the ranks throughout a short period of time and eventually ran the chapter there.

I was born in Sears Tower, on the fifteenth floor and was declared dead by the physician. But after a minute of the panic I started crying and thus I was deemed a healthy, baby girl. They named me Felicity after my grandmother (thought I didn't know her) and I was raised as the daughter of the Elder. Even with that status, I had a good childhood. I had a few good friends, a few bad (you know, just the usual) and I lived as every other kid up until I was forced to decide between scribe and paladin.

Both of my parents were Paladins, but I wasn't one for fighting. I loved books though. I read old texts any chance I got and pretty much taught myself how to perform surgery by doing so. So, even against my parents' wishes, I chose scribe and quickly began to learn their ways. That's when everything went bad.

I don't know how Ewan knew that someone died (maybe it was the look in my eyes, cause he seemed to have it too) but it wasn't just someone; it was everyone. This group that called themselves The Legion stormed into Chicago late one night. It was a Thursday, the moon was about a quarter-way across the sky. I know that because I was studying the stars from atop Sears Tower (which is where my parents and I lived) and I could spot The Legion's fires miles before the hit the edge of town.

Their force was large and everyone saw that they vastly outnumbered us. Everyone began to come up with their own plan. "Stay and fight!" "Make a run for it!" "Stay and hide!" Everyone seemed to know what to do except for my parents. They couldn't come up with a decision and by the time they thought they had, it was far too late.

I had read about crucifixions in some of the old text, but I'd never seen one in practice. That night I was forced to watch three, two of them being my parents, the third being the head scribe, someone who had taught me most things I knew. I tried not to cry but that worked in absolutely no way. I bawled like the day I was born (well, after that whole being dead stunt).

They were going to crucify me next, when a man by the name of "Caesar" stopped them and claimed me. He said that I was his and that I was to do as he was told. He didn't hit me, or touch me at first. Hell, I thought he was going to treat me nice for the rest of my life. Even without parents that might have been a life I could have died happy with. But then he raped me. It wasn't brutal or anything like that. I mean, he told me that he was going to. He said he had to 'prepare' me. I was only a little girl, so I just…there was nothing I could do but scream.

Afterword they began to move on and they took me with them. They were heading west, but other than that I was kept in a box for what felt like years. I think it was really only a couple weeks but to a little girl it felt like so much longer. We stopped in a town in Iowa, though I didn't find that out till I was much older. While we were there, The Legion was ambushed.

Some group that called themselves the 'Wastelanders' came into camp and killed a lot of people and of course they took me. They always seem to take me. A lot of the Legion retreated, thinking that the gang had a lot more people than they did. In reality they only had about fifty, but in the dead of night, with the way they were whooping and hollering, it seemed like an army.

They took me into town and that's how I was raised. Not as a slave to Caesar, but as a slave to a man named Monroe. He never touched me and he never hit me, but every day he reminded me why he kept me around. "When you turn eighteen," he'd say. "You're going to make me a lot of money. A body like yours, as fresh as it is…it'll rake in a lot of caps."

I cried every night. I thought of my mother and father and sometimes even Caesar. I didn't miss him, but he did take…everything from me. He was as big a part of my life as the brotherhood of steel and…just thinking about it makes me feel sick. I can't anymore. Ewan understood when I asked him to let me stop talking. He even put an arm around me.

He was a sweet kid. Oh what am I saying? I was a kid too. He was the best guy I ever met, let me tell you that. He was amazing in so many ways. He saved my life. He saved me from a life of prostitution and whoring. I thought having sex for payment would feel like rape but with Ewan, it was genuine. It felt good and lively. It felt real.

His life was interesting too. I remember listening to it like it was some fairy tale story. With the river and Jenny and being taught so many things from her. You wouldn't know it by looking at the guy, but he knew how to fix things and he knew how to fight. Oh boy did he know how to fight…

_The rest of the letter was burnt, like I said. Nothing left but a pile of ash. She only spoke briefly of Ewan, but what she said sounded life changing (at least to her). I wish I could check back in with the book to see what happens next, but I'm still trying to make it back to the headquarters. _

_ -Sarah Lyons, November 26__th__, 2325_


End file.
